Another Forever
by mercurial2010
Summary: Stendan and Brady-Hay family get a future living in Ireland - but not in the way everyone expects. (ficlet).
1. Prologue - another goodbye

**Another Forever**

**A/N:**

There is non-canon angst in this, and I'm really sorry – I know nobody needs it at the moment but it's all in the aim of making them happier, and giving them an entire life together!

**About this fic:**

This is a plot fic – I know my timing sucks! But there's been thousands and thousands of plot bunnies running around in my head for nearly as long as I've been watching this show and I've finally turned them into an actual storyline! So I'm gonna go with it (it's only about 6 chapters anyway – my 6 chapter farewell to Stendan!)

The first bit is at the end of this year, Brendan goes to prison for eighteen months rather than the other :( You know I try my hardest to avoid spoilers, so I've kept the "crimes" purposefully vague and hopefully with early release/extended time that can stay a little true to canon.

It's gonna be "One Day" style, told in New Years Eves/New Years Days across the boys' lifetimes. Apart from the prologue and epilogue each chapter will be a different year.

**Warning:**

M throughout, particularly this chapter.

Non-canon angst.

Let me know what you think, reviews really really mean a lot :D I'm away for two weeks so you get two chapters in one go! But next chapter is pretty much written :)

Here's for the show:

**Prologue – Another Goodbye**

**1/1/2014**

Ste can't speak. He's not sure he'd know the right words to say even if he could locate his larynx behind the barricade of half-bitten protests and sounds. He hadn't been expecting this, not today.

"I can't, I don't want you to come here again."

He'd waited five months to get a visiting order, had pretty much broken his own heart with the waiting, and the obsessing about just how many times Cheryl had seen her brother and he hadn't. How, and why and how long he'd be left out in the cold; and the what if's and begs to be let back in.

But then he'd finally got it - the request for a visit, on New Year's Day of all days – the sign of hope right? And his heart had remembered to beat. Then, when he'd seen Brendan walking towards him he could feel oxygen fill his body. Despite the hard man mask of black eye and prison beard, just looking inside those familiar blue eyes he could feel his reasons why.

But he wasn't expecting this, not today.

"Steven, did you hear me? I said I don't want you to come here again."

"I'm," Ste swallows hard, isn't sure how to form these words, feels like he's said them a thousand times already. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you at first, and I'm really sorry about Kevin. Brendan, right I'm proper sorry, I l-"

_I love you_ his heart screams but the words dry out in his mouth.

Brendan's hands meet his on the table, and Steven hangs onto the touch like it's the only thing keeping him real.

"This isn't about anything you've said or done Steven, it's really, really not."

He loses that touch again.

"Eighteen months, I've gotta pay eighteen months," the old, tired man in front of him says.

"Yeah and you've already done six – that's like a third right?"

"And then I can't come back to Chester, even if I could you know we couldn't just start from where we left of."

_I can't just go back to trying to give you the future you deserve Steven, we can't try to convince Amy, I can't pretend to be that man you need anymore, not now, after everything._ Brendan's so close to saying those words, so close he can almost feel them form on his tongue. But he can see Ste is about to break down, doesn't want to push him - doesn't think that even he could take a snapshot of their imagined future. The future that a few hellish months ago he had felt close enough to to taste.

"We're not worth waiting eleven months for, Steven." He says instead, "move on with your life, you know go back to Douglas or-"

"Doug?!"

"Or find someone else, just… be happy, please?"

"Brendan-"

"You're not gonna come here again, I don't want to see you."

**31/12/2014**

"I didn't just want-" the words are drowning out into Steven's kiss again.

Brendan can't take this, he didn't want this. This was never supposed to be just a booty-call. He wanted Steven to be angry, to shout and demand answers, justification for their year of separation. He'd taken many steps to make Steven angry. He'd lasted six weeks on the outside without seeing him – it had been near on torturous but he'd managed it. He'd waited till three oclock on new year's eve to text him, hoping he'd be drunk and in the mood for a row. He purposefully hadn't made his text a question – more a demand, knowing that would really tip him over the edge. And, as a safety precaution he'd kept the beard – he really thought Steven didn't fancy him with a beard.

"I always wanted to kiss the beard," Steven confirms he was wrong, his teeth and lips trailing all over the stubble.

Brendan had really wanted them to talk, to really talk about everything. See if there was any way they could get back what they had lost. He hadn't just wanted sex with the boy. But the moment he'd opened the door of the council flat, he could see the lust in Steven's eyes, in every inch of his face. And it was as soon as he shut that door that Steven's kiss had started. Steven had turned them around, pushing Brendan hard up against the wall, grinding and moaning, growing hard and desperate.

Steven's heat rebounds around Brendan, all over him and this cold drab flat. That all-consuming soul-burning heat. And he can't resist this, not when he'd spent so long without any human contact, and when this was Steven.

His Steven.

He couldn't take this.

As soon as Steven falls down on the bed, he makes sure he's standing, takes a couple of steps back. His eyes reflex all over Steven's face, drinking in every inch of him. He's so on fire Brendan can see it in every cell and the breadth of that amazing come-hither smile. But it just takes one look in those eyes to know Ste's not really here. He's ready and willing and capable of giving Brendan everything, but he wouldn't take anything in return. He'd just give him his body; let him use this for sex, for cheap bodily thrills.

That is not what Brendan wants.

"Look, Steven," Brendan's hand brushes up against his forehead. "you know, we need to talk."

"Why? Why do we have to pretend this is anything more than what it is?"

Ste reaches up and slowly raises the tight white T above his head, he sucks in his stomach, wants Brendan to remember him exactly as he was. He doesn't want him to know him as someone who comfort eats now he's lost everything else. He needs Brendan to want him.

The moment Ste sees that familiar lust darken the midnight blue he knows he's winning.

He reaches out, loops a finger around Brendan's belt loop and pulls him forward. Leans in and lets the scent of Brendan circle around him, drown his senses into lust. He presses his nose, his chin right against Brendan's jeans, feels his hardness just millimetres away now.

"Fuck you're proper hard Brendan. It's been a while right?"

The question is like ice over Brendan, he hates that his boy thinks he's been with anybody else. He doesn't want Ste ever to doubt the power of this or believe that rebound would just be easy. He would be a million miles away if leaving Steven was easy.

"Steven-"

Ste pulls back, pulling the grey vest he remembers out of Brendan's jeans, licks a stripe up to his navel. He always knew Brendan's body so well.

"Has it been a while?"

"Yes."

Ste runs a finger up and down Brendan's waistband, then dips right down, right across his cock. Brendan doesn't mean to let the keen fall from his lips.

"Take em off," Steven instructs, pointing degenerately at Brendan's jeans and boxers.

He watches Brendan's movements with an expression like he's starved, like Brendan's unveiling the best looking treats he's ever seen. Just that look causes Brendan's fingers to fumble over his jeans like he's never taken off his own clothes before.

The moment Brendan is free between them, Ste loosens his jaw, widens his lips and when he meets Brendan's gaze his request is so clear.

Brendan's nothing but a man, and a sinner at that, how can he hope to resist? He thrusts right into that mouth, knows Steven can take it, places two soft hands on the back of his head, just in case. Every cell in his body needs this. He's yearned for this release, thought about it every night, dreamed of the peace.

He fucks that beautiful mouth. The boy's moans spurring him on, making him work harder, faster till he's nothing but a whimpering wreck of sensitised nerve endings.

Then Steven's tongue drags along the underside of his cock and the contact – the contact of someone else doing _something_ is almost too much to take. But it's not just someone else, it's Steven, and that something is that little trick that has never been anyone else but Steven. Brendan feels his mind slip away. The boy's name forms in his mouth like an impulse, drops and is followed by others so their surrounded by the sound of Ste's name as only Brendan says it.

And then those beautiful blue eyes reach up to his man and there's never been a time that either has forgotten how good this looks.

Brendan shatters to it now, doesn't think he could hold back even if he wanted. Lost in the midst of the sight and the feel and the sound of Steven.

He drops to the floor quickly. He removes Steven's clothes like he's famished. He takes Steven's hard throbbing member into his fist and pumps rapidly.

It's a matter of moments before Steven's whimpering, crying out the way he does before he comes. And without really thinking about anything other than Steven's body, Brendan grasps his hips, pulls him forward, off the bed.

The sudden thrust makes Steven's eyes open wide and his legs shake as he kneels on the rough carpet.

"Fuck!" Steven yelps as his world grows dizzy.

But Brendan's hand is on the small of his back, steadying him, and then those two fingers are thrusting deep into him. His head tilts back as a long keen submits from his lips – no-one has ever felt as good as Brendan, has ever wrecked him as deeply.

Brendan lies down on the floor in front of his boy, pumps his cock hard in a closed fist, scissors his fingers inside him. Brushes right up against the sweet spot inside him. Opens his mouth and collects all Steven is on his tongue, swallows him all down.

Steven watches dumbfounded as Brendan licks up the bits his mouth couldn't quite hold - those eyes spelling possession and ownership.

They sit side by side on the cold carpet, panting and weak, satiated but still so desperate. Naked bodies rested against the foot of Brendan's bed, not a millimetre of a touch between them. The only noise is the sound of the street, a party across the road; and the rushing of their hearts, the beating of their minds trying to work out how to start all the things that are unsaid.

When the countdown to midnight starts up Ste smirks silently to himself – happy new bloody year Ste, because you've never been here before.

From nowhere Brendan can hear Cheryl's twelve year old voice, "the person you kiss at midnight is the person you kiss for the whole year." He looks at Steven now and hopes against God that's true. Because there are many things he doesn't know, like where they're going to go from here, how to apologise, explain, and why the hell Steven is smirking like that. But there's two things he's sure of - he doesn't ever want to kiss anyone else, and he will never ever be worth this.

The moment the clocks chime and the drunken singing of a familiar song no-one ever remembers the words to starts Brendan's hand reaches to cup Steven's chin. Their midnight kiss is his only craving. Steven's head turns to face him, but he doesn't meet him half way, his body doesn't even lean towards him, and Brendan knows he can't just take this now. Not these days.

"I'll go," Ste suggests.

The calm words bring Brendan's head to a storm, and all he can do is shake his head.

Ste catches himself smiling at Brendan's expression, it's almost enough to believe that this wasn't just about sex after all. He barely has the energy to resist as Brendan's soft "not yet," is breathed, and his fingers join around his wrist as he climbs into bed.

Those blue-grey eyes, that look like they've forgotten what sleep is, beg Ste to rest with him. And Ste's not going to refuse an order so simple.

Ste grabs his shirt as he stands up, suddenly self-conscious.

Brendan's body was so hard the last time he came back from prison, and even though Ste hasn't yet explored every inch as thoroughly as he would like, he is pretty sure tonight is no different.

As Ste climbs into bed, Brendan silently questions the presence of his t-shirt.

"I put on a bit of weight," somehow the confession falls easily between their resting hearts.

Brendan raises an eyebrow, surprised.

"Where?" He asks resting himself on one elbow, his eyes drinking over Steven's still perfect form, doubting that there's any part of Steven that has changed.

"Brendan-"

"No. Where?" He asks, lifting the white t-shirt from the boys golden skin.

Brendan explores every inch of him, takes his time now their hearts are slightly calmer. And he gets some perverted satisfaction at the thought that Steven must have been on a sun bed this afternoon. He hates the boy to tan, loves his natural pale youthful skin, but it's a sign they were always going to end up here tonight.

"Eh? Where's this weight?" He teases, and watches his boy's cheeks fill with colour. Allows his heart to take a beat – he forgot how beautiful that look is.

"Oh," he says, pinching at Steven's underbelly, though belly was really too harsh a word. If there was possibly an extra inch of skin, it only made the boy look irresistible. His tongue runs along Steven's waist, and reading Ste's body fluently reaches down, all the way down, so his tongue laps at the head of his hardening cock. Steven rests his legs on Brendan's shoulders, allows greater access, and Brendan takes everything greedily. His tongue running down the boy's perineum, flicking in and around and over that hole. His hands cup that smooth golden arse, lifts him up so Ste arches his hips backwards some more, as incredibly flexible as always.

When Brendan was alone in the prison darkness he was pretty certain his hungry imagination had extended how amazing this arse was. He thought that the deprivation had played hallucinogenic effects on his memory - no-one's arse could be that fuckable. But he can see now, in the harsh light of his flat that he had positively depreciated it. Ste's arse is smooth, golden, taut perfection.

He takes a bite of his lover's skin, knowing it would pull that breathy laugh from his lips. His index finger strokes over Steven's hole, pressing inside. He lies on the bed, coming closer to watch, and licks around his fingers at that greedy muscle.

Ste grows desperate quickly, crying and arching and bending onto those fingers.

"Please, Brendan, please fuck me?" the familiar beg from Steven's lips does something to Brendan he's not even aware of and he moves quickly. Predatorily taking what's only remained his even when he's been far too away for far too long.

Quickly almost simultaneously he strips that offending t-shirt from Steven's skin, reaches for the supplies, lubes up Steven's arse.

Brendan puts the condom on out of habit and custom more than anything else. Steven just lets him, assuming that's the answer to his deepest fears – that there had been somebody else in prison.

With Steven's legs still on his shoulders, Brendan shifts his weight forward, his hands resting either side of the boy's shoulders. There's a quick silent request for certainty and an instantaneous beg. And then their united again. And it's hard claiming, relentless, clawing sex. Hair is pulled and skin is marked. Fingers claw, mouths bite, screams stretch, and Steven's certain he can feel that moustache and beard burn every part of his body.

Neither remember specifics of the sex afterwards, just that it was far too short, they wanted to stay like that forever, and when they did come, both felt like their minds were exploding.

The come down is warm now they're wrapped in each other. Sometime after, Brendan notes that he's probably squashing the boy. But he doesn't want to move and he's enfolded in Steven's legs and arms. There's no escape even if he did choose it.

Eventually he pulls away, and sinuously their bodies stretch out side by side. Brendan brushes his thumb over Steven's cheek. His boy looks spent, entirely satiated. And there is nothing Brendan wants to do more than fall asleep next to him. But the hammer in his heart is the only reminder he needs that this can only be a fantasy. He can't let the boy see how much prison damaged him, Ste can never be a witness to the visions he must bare every night.

"Now, now you should go."

**31/12/2015**

"Got a deal going on?" Ste asks, feigning nonchalance as he licks at his pizza smeared fingers.

"What?"

At first Brendan can't believe he asked it, thinks he misheard it, but as soon as he looks into Steven's eyes he can see the truth in the question.

"No," he insists tries to take the boy's hand but his grasp is dislodged for pizza. "Steven I left that behind, you know that. I promised you that."

"Yeah and it's not like you to break a promise is it?"

No words are needed other than those, their memories still so fresh between them. I won't leave you, I won't hurt you again – they can still hear the crush of all those beneath their feet.

"You only act like this when you're scared," Steven says eventually, his tone a little softer than he intended. It still makes Brendan jump plain out of his skin though.

"Like what?"

"Like this – proper jumpy!"

The boys are sitting on Brendan's rucked up bed, eating post-sex pizza, naked. Tonight has gone how every night has always gone for them, especially over the last year – disappearing into lustful cries and licentious begs as soon as Steven steps through the door. They don't meet up a lot; Ste's busy these days with the business and his need to avoid Brendan as much as possible. The need to pretend he lives something like a normal life, and doesn't just feel close to life here – in the council house the prison had set up for his ex, the place he's never invited to and always told to leave. Brendan's only wish is to be everything Ste wants of him, and he's spent these last twelve months with a deep boned loneliness knowing calling him back will only ever be selfish. But he's stronger than he was last year, so much stronger than the year before, and now he thinks he possibly could be something comparable to what Steven needs. So he lets himself speak.

"Maybe I am scared."

"Why?"

"Because of you," Brendan gains Steven's gaze in the height of the confession, "Steven, you make me scared."

He loses that gaze again, as quickly as he gained it.

"What?"

"Because," no matter how much he wishes, he can't stop now. "Because I can't do this, this, and I don't know how to do the other either, you know to just leave you be, I can't do that either."

Steven's eyes trail up the old wary man in front of him, wishes that had been a confession of love, would have done everything for Brendan's words to have been a confession of love.

He's been sitting here with a choice. At Christmas Amy had told him they're moving away, to Northern Ireland of all places! She's got a teaching job there, but she didn't want to take the kids to a whole new country without Ste, wasn't sure how they'd settle being an entire flight away. So she wants Ste to move with them. She said it wouldn't have to be forever, he could come back in a couple of months when the kids were happier, but did he really want to stay in Chester? She said no-one knew what he was hanging around for anyway – wasn't it just full of old memories?

So if that had been a confession of love Ste would have happily given his world to Brendan, it was only ever his in the first place. But he knows the verse wasn't about love, it was about fear and need and addiction. Somewhere along the road they had become addicted to each other and ever since then this whole thing had been about leaving, about the desire to escape. Brendan's speech is a parallel to the feelings he had given before Dublin, when Ste had begged to be asked to stay. Ste knows that Brendan would always do everything to avoid giving him a future, because when it came down to it he just doesn't love him enough to pose the fight they would need.

So as Ste lets Brendan kiss him like he needs it, he knows the man would rather be doing anything else in the world.

Brendan feels Ste's lenient, willing, body beneath his own and thinks this is closer to love than he's been in years, since that time in the deli when they baked bread. He knows it's not really an answer, he knows genuinely that more sex is really the last thing they need right now. But he can't stop, doesn't ever want to stop. He wants to give Ste everything he ever longs for, begs for. So he uses his body to promise this won't ever end. It's silent this sex, but Brendan makes every body arch a vow that he will always remember that this is closer to heaven then he will ever get. The count to the new year starts when Brendan is inside his boy. And as it lasts he looks deep into Steven's eyes and hopes that maybe this is the year they start again. 2016 could be the year they stop wasting time.

When they finish he pulls himself away. Leaving with a lasting kiss before he takes himself alone to the shower, giving the boy time alone with his thoughts.

To Ste the abandonment is proof that that was the taste of goodbye. But the moment he feels the tears start he hears his phone vibrate a text.

Amy – Ste (00.30am): Happy New Year babe! Made up your mind yet? xxx

He feels the promise of a new start beckoning and hears Brendan's humming in the shower behind the locked door. Knows this is the only sign he needs.

Ste – Amy (00.33am): HNY 2 u guys 2. N yeah, will move wit you. Thanks. Will fone in morn. xxx

He changes quickly, silently. He makes one last goodbye with his hand resting on the closed bathroom door before he walks away.

"OK we'll do it your way, I'll leave you, you won't ever have to see me again, and… thanks - for finally telling me what you want."


	2. 2023

**A/N:**

Now I've explained the another goodbye, this is what the actual plots going to be about – so it's kinda wordy :/ Let me know if you like it, and if there's anything you'd like to see happen :)

**31/12/2023**

Ste shuffles into the kitchen, past all the drunken guests. Keeps his head low, his hands shoved in his pockets. He is disrespectfully late, but he really doesn't need this tonight, of all nights. He knew Raig's father was rich, that his house was going to be big; it's why Leah wanted the party here in the first place. But he didn't need another reminder that other people had made it, when his world felt like it had a permanent bullet hole in it – he had never learned how to hold onto what he needs. Everyone just thought he should move on, but it's easy to say that when they don't have a memory in every corner.

So he kept dipping from shame and self-pity to worry about why Leah needed this party anyway. At least he thought it could probably be deemed normal for fathers to fear "announcements" from their sixteen year old daughters, especially if their twenty-one year old boyfriends were around. Ste knew Padraig was sound, a good bloke, had spent the majority of both Christmases with the Hay's family since he'd been dating his daughter. He knew Raig would treat his daughter well - it was Leah he was worried about.

"Hey Ste, there you are! You OK?" He decides the worry he can see on Amy's face was just due to the amount of beer he had consumed and kisses her happily.

"Any idea what this is about yet?" He finds he has to raise his voice more than he thought to speak over the music.

"No, but I mean it can't get any worse can it?!"

"What?"

"I think I'm still getting over the shock! We've known Raig for how long? How did we not know what either of his parents were called? Or his brother-"

Ste stared at Amy – trying to assess if she had actually gone mad, sometimes he really worried she was beginning to lose all sense, anyway "his mum's called Eileen."

Amy stared at him like he was missing a vital step.

"He doesn't see his Dad or brother much."

"Ste are you sure you're OK? I mean it's a shock for _me_ –"

"What are you on about Amy? How much have you had to drink?"

"Oh God! You don't know yet do you?" Amy placed a hand on his shoulder like she was about to tell him someone had died. She wasn't – she was about to tell him something that would irrevocably change his life nevertheless. "You must have some idea though, I mean you must have thought at some stage that's a bit of a coincidence – mum called Eileen, son called Raig, Padraig."

Ste knew Amy was doing that thing she does when she tries to break down important news into small manageable chunks. Like: our son, good at school, not many parties, being severely bullied. He wished she'd just spit it out though – he'd purposefully stopped seeing coincidences as he stood on Ha'penny bridge eight years ago.

"What?"

"Raig's father… is-"

"Steven," came a voice from behind the pair.

Ste's entire body froze in shock. He hadn't heard his name spoken like that for almost a decade. No-one called him anything but Ste these days, he makes certain of it on a daily basis. It wasn't that voice though. He'd know that voice anywhere, even across this loud busy room it would rip him from reality with shaking knees and a trembling heart. This was a female voice. But somehow it all came together, like pieces of a jigsaw mending itself. The news Amy was trying to tell him, those times when Raig's smile would look familiar, he could make it all make sense. And he knew, without turning around, who the voice belonged to - even though he'd only met the woman twice.

"Eileen."

**S&B**

Ste stands at the back of the room, unnoticed but watching.

There are many ways Brendan Brady hasn't changed over the last almost-decade. His eyes are still dark pale topaz, hair still receded but thick. Through the material of that suit Ste could see that those muscles are still perfectly formed deep rivets down his entire body. He still holds himself in a way that Ste can only describe as "has swag". And his effect on Ste is still exactly the same - those little hairs on the back of his neck pulling despite the crowded room's depth between them.

There's one obvious difference – the moustache is gone. Ste's not sure he appreciates it, though it makes Brendan look younger it's just not him. There is a difference in Brendan though, almost unnoticeable unless you've spent years observing him. And that's what Ste watches now. He sees it in his hands first – his finger's aren't twisting into those shapes and they don't tap around like they need to feel everything and anything. He doesn't look as manic, like he has a celestial peace now. It's not a good peace though; it doesn't come from someone who's settled into life, it comes as though he's tired, knackered and wrecked. He looks like someone who's seen the worst of humanity and barely managed not to break.

Brendan looks exactly like somebody Ste doesn't need in his life. But right at the moment when he decides that, their gazes clash with an intensity that knocks the breath from him. And they're not here anymore, this party, this timeframe, they're right back in that council flat and Brendan's saying those words Ste has questioned every day for eight years.

The older man's gaze flashes quickly around the room and then comes right back to Ste like he's the only thing in focus. His lips squeeze together the way they used to when he wanted to say something but needed help with the words. But the moment he stands up Raig, Padraig, is in front of him, pulling him into a side room.

"Dad!" Leah sings, her long elegant arms wrapping around Ste's neck pulling him back to the moment. "I really thought you might not make it - well chuffed you are! We're gonna make the announcement in the little room over there, tell family first y'know. How's the deli?"

**S&B**

Ste sits in the back corner on a chest of drawers next to Leah's best mate. Brendan's on the sofa diagonally across from him and Ste feel's that consistent gaze like a revulsion over him, he can feel it all over his skin.

Ste hates that he looks so old these days. Wishes that if there had to be a time he had to see Brendan again it wasn't now, when his hair's thinning and his waist is doing the opposite, and he's just found his first grey hair.

Mainly though he hates how just Brendan's gaze still affects him so deeply. He has to keep his feet thudding to the rhythm of the music on the other side of the wall just to keep in this moment.

He takes a sip of his beer and it almost tastes like Brendan with the feel of his gaze down his throat. Ste has a sudden powerful yearning to know if he still tastes the same.

But the moment Leah steps in the room he can refocus his thoughts and he's grateful that his daughter has always bought him right back to basics. She takes her place next to Padraig and Ste smiles at how good they always look together, how protective Raig's arm over Leah's shoulders is. She may be young but she could have chosen a lot of worse men, Lord knows Ste did. That thought doesn't make the announcement any easier though.

The announcement, which went something along the lines of:

"So yeah, a couple of you know already but we're pregnant, before any of you say anything we're dead happy, we're keeping it and we're moving in together."

**S&B**

The parents, all six of them, stay in the room long after the teenager's celebratory cheers quieten down and wishes of a happy new year are shared. At first there are several stone walls of silence, but they're all broken by Eileen's accusation.

"So exactly how long have you guys known?"

Awful things are said, screamed, things that will be regretted in the morning. Darkened secrets stretched in harsh light for hours. Amongst the manipulation and the exaggeration it's not clear what shouts remain facts, but what is clear is that they all adore the children, and not one of the six had had the faintest idea.

**S&B**

"It all got a little out of hand in there didn't it?" Brendan speaks low as he stands behind Ste in the hallway.

Ste jumps immediately, Brendan's presence like an injection of aphrodisiac. He stares at his trainers counts backwards until his heart cools.

"Yeah, listen I'm really sorry for all those things Amy said – she just gets a little protective of Leah."

"She's her mother, she should do."

"I guess."

"Anyway it's not like we were any better."

"Your Eileen has a proper mouth on her!" Ste speaks impulsively, is worried for a second until Brendan laughs good naturedly.

"Party's alright though," Ste concedes, "good alcohol, pretty nice house too."

"The house is gorgeous Steven, I just wish it were mine…belongs more to the bank than to me y'know," Brendan stops talking abruptly, isn't quite sure why he just shared that, but just doesn't want their conversation to be over. Doesn't think he could stand to see the boy walking away from him.

"Cost a bit?"

Brendan nods, suddenly unable to find the words that were so ready to pour from him.

Right now Ste wants to do very little but run a finger across Brendan's upper lip, the newly exposed skin there, wonders how soft it would feel, wouldn't mind tasting it either. He shakes himself as his mind becomes obsessed – he can't do this anymore.

"I guess I better go find where Amy is, see ya later."

Brendan's hand is on Ste's wrist before he's even realised he's moved. Both boys stare at the contact, skin like it's burning. Brendan almost lets go but can't quite bring himself to and as he looks in those blue eyes he can read all the pleas. He walks them back a couple of steps, opens the nearest available door and takes them inside, his hold never leaving Steven. With the door closed, he walks right up close to him, so he can feel his heart beating, his breath rushing.

He smirks as some corner of his mind realises the room they're in is one of his ensuite bedrooms, it would have been more helpful for them both if it was the laundry room or something. That said, he's pretty sure he would find lust in any room Steven is in. And he's much happier just looking all over Steven, drinking in every inch of the boy he's missed forever.

"How do you still look exactly the same?"

Brendan's voice is so low Ste's cheeks fill with colour.

"Hardly."

"Nice tracksuit." Ste knows Brendan's not teasing, it's clear in the thickness of his voice but he feels defensive anyway.

"I wasn't sure how posh this party was gonna be, didn't really have time to think about it."

Brendan's step closer assures Steven of the honesty in his words.

"Busy?"

Steven makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat, can taste his heart beating in his mouth, isn't sure there's room for words.

"Deli?"

"Hmmm."

"_Ten_!"

Brendan's house is suddenly filled with the noise of a familiar count down and both men are transported back to a decade ago.

"I didn't think I was gonna see you again," Ste says, before he's even heard the words himself. "I mean that was kinda the plan but-"

"_Eight_!"

"You just left Steven, I just had a shower and you'd just gone, you left me."

"_Six_!"

"You kept telling me to leave!"

"_Five_!"

"I mean maybe not that night, but every other," Ste insists.

"_Four_!"

"I never meant forever."

"_Three_!"

"Steven, I never meant for a decade."

"_Two_!"

Both men are panting, they're not sure when that countdown started being for something other than the new year. But they can see it in each other's eyes – how much they need this, and they're not going to look away from it now.

"_One_!"

Brendan's hands clasp Steven's face, his fingers fitting in Steven's cheekbones, he knew his place had been carved there for eternity.

"Happy new year, Steven," he whispers heavily against the boys lips.

The kiss is filled with an intensity that neither has ever known, has been eight years in the making. It is so familiar, all those little memorised movements, licks and sucks and bites. Ste moans as he realises Brendan still tastes exactly the same, like Scotch and mint and that taste that's only ever been Brendan. Brendan sucks that moan between his teeth, unable to believe Steven still sounds exactly the same, wants to collect all those moans tonight.

Almost instantaneously they're both breathless, but they're also starved for nothing but each other. If it was possible to breathe in skin, and teeth and tongue they'd do it now. They need every essence of the other to beat inside, wipe away the loneliness. They have never needed anything as much as this and they know they never will do. Sinuously Brendan steps Ste further back into the wall so there's no space between them, their bodies moulding effortlessly to their new older shapes.

They stay with foreheads pressed as they grasp oxygen and try to reorder their minds.

"Steven," Brendan whispers, just that, and then he repeats it, because no word has ever felt so good and he can see in Steven's smile that it sounds good too.

They kiss softly like they can't remember not to, and it's in the feel of Brendan's naked top lip against Ste's that the boy grasps an essence of reality. The lack of moustache the reminder things aren't as they were.

"I'm sorry," Ste pushes against Brendan's chest, is surprised at how lenient the older man is these days, how willing to be pushed away. "I'm sorry I can't – I'm married."

**S&B**

Leah stands with her secret fiancée on her future father in law's balcony. "Daddy Brendan" she remembered tonight that those words used to make her so happy. Raig's arms are wrapped around her, his hands protectively, supportively on her belly, but she can feel the tension in him. What she loves most about her man is that he would always do everything to make other people happy, hates to think he's ever been the cause of misery and she knows tonight must have been torture for him. Their parents not exactly keeping the noise of the argument down. She's really glad she had the foresight not to tell anyone of the engagement yet, tonight had been far too explosive. Individually their families were fucked up, together they were going to be volatile.

She tilts her head to smile at her fiancé and knows instinctively the words he needs.

"So when I was six my Dad lived with this bloke, they were crazily in love with each other right – crazily. All I remember of him was he had this well massive moustache, like ridiculously long and he read stories in two different accents – tonight I remembered that man's name was Brendan."

Raig's eyes light up instantly and he laughs into his love's neck.

"No way!"

Leah nods.

"So basically you're saying this is incest?!"

"God Raig you're such a perve!"

**S&B**

Brendan finds Ste again on his roof terrace, arms crossed over the metal bar, watching his daughter and his son.

Instantly, on finding out his son's girlfriend was called Lee, Brendan had thought of Steven. But there weren't many things that could be vaguely associated with Steven that weren't direct memories. And they were in Ireland, it was far too much of a coincidence. Anyway he still didn't see that much of Paddy, had never really been his father. He knew the party was only here because of the house. Earlier tonight he had caught himself being jealous of Lee's father – he'd seen so much more of his son these last few years than he had. He couldn't even begin to feel jealous of Steven though, never wanted anything but what bought him happiness.

He stands behind Steven, looking over his shoulder to the couple, sees them through Steven's eyes and realises this makes him happy.

"They look alright together don't they?"

The moment their eyes had met earlier Steven had jumped, and he'd jumped again when Brendan spoke to him in the hallway. Doesn't now though, just hangs his head lower like he's suffering.

Ste takes a deep breath.

"I think they're gonna be OK," he smiles at Brendan.

That smile echoes all over Brendan like it's one of his. He hasn't got over Steven, not for a second, there's never been a time he's wanted to. He needed the pain as a reminder never to fall so hard again. Hearts like his weren't built to love.

He didn't ever think he'd see him again though.

"So, married?" He breathes heavily, standing with his back up against the glass divide.

"Yeah – Adam Donalson." Ste smiles and then catches sight of his middle finger, is still surprised not to see his wedding ring there. "Well, separated, we're trying though."

"That's good…it's good that you're trying."

"Six years – not that easy to throw away," for some reason Ste finds himself thinking of Doug – hope's he's happy now.

"It's never easy," Brendan's voice is dark like the midnight of experience; and Ste notes that his hands are twisted at his sides.

He doesn't want to be the reason Brendan is ripped away from that peace, thinks that it probably does him good, can see that he's sleeping better these days. Doesn't want to bring any more hurt to the man, he knows he's already suffered more than enough for a lifetime.

"Better be off actually," Ste says collecting himself together.

"Thanks for the invite," and then realises he wasn't actually invited by Brendan, "well y'know the party. It's been good to see you" and then he's bought breathlessly up against the memory of that kiss. "– I mean-"

"I'm glad you could make it," Brendan nods, and Ste wonders when he became the one fluent in emotion.

"So am I," Ste nods, and takes himself away. He's by the end of the roof terrace, just about to disappear out of sight when he looks back at Brendan Brady. "Where does all this leave us?"

"Well I guess we're always gonna be part of each other's lives, with them," he indicates their children with a dip of his head for the needless but faulty explanation. "So friends?"

"Friends?! Do you think we're even able of being friends?!"

Brendan stares at Steven, feels like he's just laid his heart on the line and the boy is playing skipping games with it.

"I'm sorry, yeah, friends sounds good."


	3. New Years Eve 2024

**A/N:**

So I know I said I wasn't going to post till next weekend, but I had 2 days off and I'm addicted to this fic!

**About this fic:**

Right so because the chapters are getting so long, I've decided to split them into new years even and new years day – I'll post both of these together anyway cos I'm away for another week (I know!) so let me know if the new format is irritating!

**Chapter Warnings:**

Non-canon angst and vaguely M.

Thank you so much for the last lot of reviews and favourites and follows, I really like to hear what everyone thinks, all reviews really really mean a lot, so please leave me a little word :D

Here's for the show:

**Chapter Two**

**31/12/2024**

"Do you want me?"

"Steven – what?!"

Brendan stares mystified by the boy on his doorstep. They'd barely seen each other since last new year's. They'd attempted some sort of connection, sent Christmas cards, shared smiles at the birth, had a drink at the Christening. It wasn't quite friendship, there was still too much beneath the surface for that, but it definitely wasn't anything sexual.

"If I said you could just take everything you wanted, proper anything, just do me how you want – what-"

"Steven-" his voice comes in warning but too God damn tight.

It isn't fair to do this, when he's dressed ready to go out, "on the pull", was the ridiculous expression Anne had used. He's finally decided he can make a move past Steven and Anne had come from America specifically to celebrate this, or force this. So the boy can't just turn up on his doorstep and say these things, not when deep down Ste's smile would always be everything Brendan would ever want.

Brendan's body is being forced back against the hallway wall; hands are searching for the warmth beneath his jacket. The boy is hungry and explorative, fingertips running over every dip and cadence, thumbs rubbing at the sensitive peek of the man's nipples, little fingers sliding between the holes of the dress shirt.

"You proper do want me don't you - I can smell it on you, you smell fucking fantastic!" The boys lips bury into Brendan's neck, suck, bite, nip at the warm flesh.

Brendan swallows his greedy moan back down. He used to want this so much, had spent the first few months after Raig's party dreaming of this, but he finally accepted that it wasn't what Ste wanted and slowly it became less like an obsession, just a low flickering infinite fire.

Ste pushes further into Brendan. They're cocks create the perfect friction and, on impulse, Brendan grips his hands around those flawless delicate hips.

There's clearly something wrong - he had to keep thinking that. This isn't about him, it couldn't be, not after all this time.

Steven's mouth works his way up his jaw, and Brendan can smell it then – the amount of alcohol Steven has consumed. It anesthetises his heating veins. Suddenly his hands are on Steven's hips to steady him, not out of any lustful move.

He feels a giggle against his cheek.

"Your rooms proper spinning – like it's drunk or something!"

"Yeah, the _room's_ drunk! Steven, how much have you had to drink?"

As Ste searches for an answer, his eyes crumple adorably, his lips scrunch – that look that Brendan has missed nearly every day.

"Not sure, New Year's Eve innit?!" Then the boy's eyes are darkening again, and he's running a thumb across Brendan's lips, exploring the naked top lip.

"I wanna kiss you at midnight. Do you miss the tash? I miss the tash. Think I could get used to it though, me. If you kissed me enough." his words have rushed so fast he's made himself breathless. He gulps, stumbles a little further forward, "I wanna kiss you before midnight! Now."

Brendan cups the boy's face to prevent him from moving any closer to his vocalised aim. Steven moans in pleasure.

"Fuck I forgot what your fucking hands are like when we kiss, you touch proper good, you."

Brendan can't help but smile - alcohol always brought out the scally in Ste. He almost convinces himself that it's easy to ignore the visceral effect that dialect has on him, almost.

He takes a deep breath, and is impressed by how strong his voice comes, "right Steven, we need to get you home, you know, to sleep this off. How did you get here?"

"Drove didn'I?"

Fuck!

"You drove… your car?"

"Nah I drove a submarine! You're a proper idiot you!" Ste laughs and then those lips are submitting more of a sighy-moan thing. "Kiss me."

Brendan's mind hooks to his instinct – keeping Steven safe has always been his only reason. His hands catch the boy's shoulders as he pushes him through the hallway, guiding him into the house, leaning against him as he stumbles, correcting his stance. There's no way this boy is driving anywhere for the next couple of hours.

"Where we going? Why's your wall paper moving so fast? What you got some new high-tech stuff that's a hologo….fram?!"

"We're getting you to bed," Brendan says the words before he's heard them and immediately regrets them.

"Oooh yes," the boy moans quickly and then that arse is grinding back against him and Brendan prays Ste can't feel the effect this is all having on him.

"No not to bed, we're gonna get you to lie down and then we're gonna get you coffee."

"Hmm that doesn't sound as fun…" Ste slurred slowly, like he was seriously contemplating it as a sexual manoeuvre. "But I'm sure you could make it fun!"

Brendan laughs louder than he can remember doing for a while.

"Yeah I'm sure I can."

**S&B**

Ste passes out as soon as he's flat out on Brendan's spare bed. Brendan takes off his shoes, stops himself from removing any other item of clothing. He chastises himself that he can't even remove a sock without lust pounding.

He brings Ste a coffee and Ste blinks his eyes open as it's placed on the bedside table.

"You look like you're going out?" Ste asks, his voice full of sleep.

"Was, cancelled it."

"It's New Year's Eve!"

"Do you really think I'm going anywhere?" Brendan questions.

Ste smiles, takes a deep breath like he's finally allowing himself to fill his lungs with oxygen, and falls back into drunken dreams.

**S&B**

Ste lays watching Brendan. Now the dizzying effect of the alcohol has worn off his gaze is quiet as it lingers over his man, who's sat on a chair in the corner of the room. Brendan's reading a book, eyes riveted to the page and hasn't noticed the boy's awake again yet. So he can take his time to just watch. Brendan's body always used to be rapid, moving quickly from one spot to the next, like he had to know his surroundings in case danger lurked in the shadows – Ste has lost count of the number of times he's heard people refer to Brendan as a wild animal. That was the Brendan of a decade ago, this Brendan is entirely different. Still predatory, holding power in every muscle, but it's like he's stopped and blocked by something, like there's no more fight pulsing through him and so every muscle barely flutters. Ste wonders if that's true for Brendan's heart, he has remembered every day the strength of its rhythm when it was finally uncovered.

Ste always used to want to calm Brendan, settle him into him, he used to love watching him sleep. Now he wants to make him buzz, push him to the brink and watch that light overtake his eyes. He wants to make him feel. Ste wants to bring Brendan alive like he had done to him all those years ago.

Brendan flips the page and feels Ste's eyes on him, looks at him from over the top of his reading glasses. They share a smile like two ends of a rainbow and they both feel the shift from lust to friendship.

"Hey," Ste blinks tranquilly.

"Hey, yourself."

"There's something… different, about you… and I don't just mean the tash innit!"

"Different how?"

"I dunno," Ste says, takes a moment to think of the adjective, it's far from relaxed but it's more that than anything else. "Un…stressed."

Brendan nods like he understands. He lays his reading glasses to rest on the table, and the movement feels significant, sentimental like he's exposing more than just his eyes to Ste.

"I've been having counselling, guy I met in prison, it's good to just talk you know."

Ste nods, is happy Brendan can finally share those tortured parts of himself willingly, but mainly he's just confused – therapy is supposed to calm you, relax you and in the long run make you happier, not gradually diminish all you are.

There's silence as Ste slowly sits himself up in bed, alcohol still fogging his movements. He drinks from the water that Brendan has left for him.

"Are you ready to tell me what this is about?" Brendan asks.

Ste takes a deep breath. Under Brendan's protection he can confront those memories of earlier this afternoon, his husband and that man, and not need to smash something or drink his body weight in alcohol.

"Saw Adam didn't I? With Nick."

"Nick?"

"Yeah his, I don't know what the fuck you call it, lover?"

"Oh, he's with someone new."

"Not new." Brendan can feel the boy's pain as he shakes his head. "Saw them didn't I in our, together, in our bed."

"He cheated on you?!" Brendan's jaw tightens, he feels his blood get thick and veins tauter, like his body is closing in on itself. He feels the one emotion he's banned himself from – anger.

"Don't stress," Ste says quickly, although Brendan only needs to look in those blue eyes to know his boy is hurting. "Probably deserved it, me, right?"

"Why?"

"Dunno, worked too hard or I dunno, spent too much time with the kids or…" Ste barricades the hot, angry, intoxicated tears. He hates that he's appearing this weak in front of Brendan again - the man who wrecked his world. "Everyone leaves in the end anyway, so I bet I deserved it."

Brendan watches Ste's body almost convex on itself with the effort of holding back the tears, looks at the boy's hands and sees the crescents of pain his fingernails are leaving in his palms.

Brendan is with him in an instant, protection and support his only motivations.

"Don't think like that," he pleads, though from his lips it's more like an order. His hands cup Steven's face to form eye contact. "I never want to hear you thinking like that again do you hear me? You did not deserve it."

"How do you know? Weren't here, were you?"

Those words resonate around the room like they're more than just facts.

"I know you Steven, and you would never do anything to deserve this."

Brendan's fingers stroke the back of Ste's neck fingertip-light, and Ste dips his head like he's wishing himself away from this moment. Brendan bends forward, presses a delicate kiss to his forehead and tries to pretend he still has enough strength to protect his Steven.

In Brendan's embrace, Ste feels like he can finally breathe. Brendan was the person who wrecked his world, made him fall in and out of love, and then doubt its existence for a lifetime. Brendan changed him, cut out his heart and pulled it with him. Ste knows that despite the distance and the years Brendan had carved his way into his marriage to another. In some ways Brendan is as to blame for the end of his marriage as his disloyal employee Nick. So he knows he shouldn't be seeking comfort in this man's arms. But in the same breath he knows there has never been a place that is as consoling, there is no solace like Brendan's. So as Ste feels himself wrapped in Brendan's protection he lets the emotions flood.

"I just, I just proper thought we were trying," he whimpers. He hasn't spoken to his husband in weeks but he doesn't remember the time they said they were over. He's not even 36 yet, has been outwardly gay for fourteen years, and yet he has two failed marriages to his name.

At Brendan's arm around his shoulders, Ste's entire body folds into the strength. Those deep, silent sobs start, and Brendan tempts them to lie down together, never neglecting his hold. For a moment he feels guilt that this is what he did to Eileen, he thinks that the pain of watching Steven go through it is in some way his repentance. Then as he looks down he sees Steven's blue watery eyes staring up at him.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't-" Ste starts.

Brendan hates that Ste has seen his pain and places a finger against his lips, moves the hand quickly before the sensuality starts.

"Sssh, just rest, now." He says, low, and Ste presses his face into Brendan's chest. "Everything will be OK in the morning, I promise."

Ste feels infinite distance wipe away inside Brendan's embrace, it's easy to pretend that this is where he's always been when a fraction of his heart never left.

Their embrace lasts into relaxed, serene hours. Sometimes when you hold all you want in your arms, your heart calms because there is nothing else in the world you need. Brendan would be happy loosing forever lying like this, so he doesn't realise the effect it's having on his boy until it's too late – his body shifting hard and yearning. The play of the boy's lips is addictive, like he's unaware of his movements and just trying to get a fix, so Brendan knows he can't be the one to lose his head.

Brendan knows Ste isn't aiming for true lust right now anyway, he's committing to eradication of hurt in a way that's only going to bring more confusion.

"Think about what you're doing," Brendan warns.

"I'm so fucking tired of thinking-" Ste moans, presses mouth to neck harder, biting, sucking, insistent.

Brendan trails his hands through his hair and the boy's moan almost makes him forget that his aim is to pull him away.

"Steven-"

As Ste's lips release from his skin it's with this unbelievably sexy noise, his eyes are dark and he's panting.

He looks delectable.

"Brendan?" He says and there is nothing the man wants more than everything the tone of that voice promises.

Brendan knows he's weak. He knows he won't forgive himself for taking advantage of Steven, his Steven, at his weakest point. But as much as he loves him he needs him. He's like an ex-junkie tasting a little and starved for a lot. His mind loses all control over his movements. For a split moment he submits to the wild.

The older man grips the young man's shoulders, flinging his lenient, willing body underneath him into the mattress. Ste's eyelashes flutter closed in lust. Brendan pulls Ste's knees up and the boy responds immediately, wrapping his calves around the man's hips, creating a tighter pull. As their groins connect Ste groans, gyrating like this is all he's wanted for years.

It's that thought that makes Brendan stop. He remembers that mien in Ste's eye when he first saw him a year ago at Raig's party - a look like old stale heartbreak, like he couldn't remember what it felt like to trust enough to think with his heart. That wasn't his look - he's accepted that slowly over the last twelve months. It wasn't the after effect of them that created that topaz, it was Adam. Ste had loved his husband whole-heartedly, everybody said so. And this is someone else's heartbreak – it's not Brendan's to fix.

Brendan knows that right now Ste isn't kissing him, he's kissing Adam and Nick and revenge and punishment.

"We're not going to do this-" Brendan exhales.

"Wha'?" Ste's eyes are wide and lustful but Brendan knows he's right.

"How do you think you're going to feel in the morning?"

The boy's eyes drop down and away, his answer given in the memory of what Brendan wishes never happened – the end of them.

"I'm gonna go call you a taxi," Brendan says, his hands running up the boy's calves aiming for freedom.

He leaves quickly, but at the door adds, "You can call me tomorrow, or text me, you know, if you like. I'm here for you Steven, never forget that."

His hands on the door – he is so close to going, but Ste's response is:

"If you were, here for me – for real, you'd let me stay. We don't have to…y'know. Just hug me please? I feel safe with you."

And Brendan will always relent to that trigger word.

**S&B**

At first, waking up without Brendan hurts. Ste really thought they would find rest in each other's arms tonight. He wanted nothing more than to see the play of morning over Brendan's sleeping features, it always used to bring so much warmth to him. But as he drifts awake a few hours later it's to an empty bed and just the lingering scent of Brendan. He's abandoned in now, to 2024, and can taste how distanced they are from the men they used to be. Love doesn't live between them anymore and Ste knows he has to give up this fight before they fade away. They have to do what Brendan asked a year ago and try to be friends.

As Ste walks into the lounge Brendan is watching television, but he doesn't need to look up to know the boy is in the room.

"You're still over the limit, Steven," he points out – always keenly aware of the boy's safety.

"I know, I called a taxi."

In the reunion of their gaze they attempt a communication neither is aware of.

"I'm sorry I was proper drunk when I got here." Ste says eventually, "did I say anything really embarrassing?"

"Oh just that I touch proper good," Brendan teases, and Ste's heart beats quickly at the quirk of his lips.

"Oh right yeah, well I was lying!"

"Course – what I thought."

Brendan hasn't realised he's left the couch until he's stood right in front of the boy and can feel his post-sleep warmth reverberate between them, nothing has ever felt so tempting.

"Oh and you said that I can make coffee and lying down fun."

"Well that wasn't so much of a lie, thanks for… I dunno… everything, I guess."

"I'd say anytime but-"

"Yeah I'm sorry I messed up your plans, you could still call Mitzeee? Catch up with her."

"She'll be trashed by now, I'll just be her personal security guard for the night."

"Nothing you haven't done before."

They laugh lightly, share in the traces of memories.

"Listen… I don't… about the Adam thing, are you gonna be OK?"

Steven nods as he hears those words for the support and condolence they are. He has always been able to translate Brendan's heart to normal emotions.

"One day. I guess it's karma or something anyway innit?"

"How do you figure that one out?"

Ste breathes heavily, doesn't know how he's got them onto this topic again, just that it feels inevitable, like they're committed to spending an eternity talking circles. Like they're stuck in a maze of things left unsaid.

"Because of you and Doug,"

"You never cheated on Doug."

"Not physically no, but emotionally I did."

One more chance, Ste makes himself a silent promise – just one more chance. One more throw of his heart, see if Brendan will catch it now or whether it will stop beating permanently.

"Honestly Brendan, emotionally I've cheated on every guy I've ever been with apart from you… all for you."

Those words buzz over Brendan, like he can feel his veins start to unclog and his heart regain its rhythm. He can see the boy isn't drunk now, and in Ste's unwavering gaze he can see this is about him, genuinely about him, not about rejection and revenge but want and need. Steven desires him. Brendan can read the honest craving in Steven's eyes and he wants this so much. It's not just burning embers anymore, it's an apocalyptic fire.

"Steven-" Ste can hear Brendan's tone of resistance but can see underneath to the lust.

They hear the chime of the clock outside, the familiar cheers and know this is their time. This has always been their time.

"Midnight," Ste breathes, "kiss me? Please?"


	4. New Years Day 2025

**Chapter Warnings:**

Angst, of the canon and non-canon kind.

Adult themes.

Very, very, very M.

**Chapter Three**

******A/N 12/5/2013: Just so you know I will be finishing this but it might take a while I'm really sorry to keep you all waiting.  
**

**1/1/2025**

"_Midnight," Ste breathes, "kiss me? Please?"_

Other than Brendan's overwhelming soul-consuming kiss there are few things Ste is aware of. He can hear the door shutting quietly. He can sense the room spinning as he's guided further into the house. He can feel the lift of his t-shirt from his skin, the slow unpeeling of his body and the rush of the shower as it reverberates from every cell.

As they pull apart for air, Ste's head rests back against the shower, eyes closed to stop himself exploding into lust. Brendan starts talking with urgency like he can't stop.

"We still need to sober you up. Steven, we don't, I mean I don't-"

Ste kisses his lips, steals his words.

"Let's just not over think it right," the boy begs, "tomorrow's the start of a new year innit?"

Brendan nods, head low like he is powerless to resist although his every cell is screaming for him to. Ste steps closer to him, eyelashes lowered, lips parted, and just breathes in the lust. Ste's patient and will wait forever if that's how long Brendan needs to crack, submit and kiss him. He needs this next move to come from him. He has to remind Brendan that they're at their most powerful together.

Brendan looks up with a sigh, his eyes trail over the boy's face. He absorbs all those familiar signs of lust; longed for signs of longing; needed sings of need. Ste's hair is dripping from the shower, droplets shining from that plump bottom lip and Brendan can feel lust tie tight. He cups his cheek, feels his warmth and presses his lips slowly against his boy's.

It's Ste's responsiveness that triumphs over Brendan, he has always been so weak to it. Ste's lips widen with his own and Brendan gets that feeling of ownerhsip, like he has the power to shape Ste, like there are a million lessons inside him and Ste is avid for each one.

Brendan's fingers grip the boy's hair and their tongues join in battle.

Ste moans into the embrace and steps closer, needing more. His hands grip Brendan's hips as he feels their lust reunite, and he dances his hips greedily.

But Ste can taste something different in Brendan's embrace, although tongues dance and hunger resounds, the man's hands stay still in his hair like he's purposively frozen. Ste leaves the snog, plants a trail of kisses along Brendan's jaw and takes his ear lobe between his teeth, knows the sweet spot there. Like that he reminds the man that he is an expert in his every sensitivity, that their sex would always be torturously good.

"Stop thinking!" Steven begs, breathing deep into his ear.

"I wish it were that easy!"

"It is" Steven insists, "just, feel,"

Ste takes Brendan's cock in his hand, uses his other hand to line his own member up against him, and pumps them both together, movements eased by the rush of the shower. The boy knows there's nothing that's ever felt like this, their bodies will always remain the perfect match.

"Feel," he breathes deeply before taking Brendan's kiss again.

He worships the man's moan, uses his entire body to elongate it greedily. They stand under the shower head, their bodies shining from the water. They're both panting as he pulls away.

"See no need to think is there?"

Brendan's walked a tightrope of resistance for hours. He knows the fall down is dangerous, unsafe and unrequited. But it's getting so difficult, he's losing the memory of all those therapeutic lessons and he's left remembering simply Steven and sex. Ste looks exquisite in the low bathroom light, naked in his shower, and Brendan feels exhausted from the fight, like he's been resisting for years.

"But the moment I stop thinking Steven I-"

"What?" Ste dares and Brendan knows this boy in front of him now is the only one to have ever known all of him.

Brendan can remember the comfort of Ste's love - how every aspect of him could finally sit at ease when he was a part of Steven.

Brendan's fight collapses, falls into the man he is always powerless to resist. He turns Steven around predatorily, pushes him into the shower wall possessively, and is on his knees in moments. Ste spreads his legs knowingly and Brendan is wild now – there is nothing he can do but commit to the pattern of their love, sensing the flexing of that muscle over his lips, pressing his tongue right in tasting the familiarity of Steven.

His Steven.

His fingers grip Steven's cock hard, pump fast eased by the shower droplets. Steven moans Brendan's name long and hard into his arm and Brendan forgets the spaces between them, feels the closeness like home. He doesn't remember why he shouldn't, can only hear those inner screams that he must take, own, possess everything.

He pulls his kiss away, leaves his fingers around Steven's cock but loosens his grip so his touch is only feather light.

Steven bites his arm as he feels the sting of Brendan's hand against his arse. Has always loved the buzz of the slap.

"You're so bad Steven, leading us back here, you know I can't resist you when you look at me like that."

Ste hopes his moan tells Brendan to stop trying to.

"But you're greedy aren't you? I can feel how much you want me, I bet if I told you to get yourself off, to fuck my fist, you would. You'd come so quickly wouldn't you? You know you would, despite how lightly I'm touching you." Brendan pulses his fist tighter to remind Steven of his power, and Ste jerks his hips, trying to find a climax in the midst of this tension.

He moans Brendan's name again as he feels another slap against his arse.

"Did I tell you to move?"

Ste shakes his head submissively, keening now, pausing in his chase. He's never been this submissive to anyone but Brendan, the one who made him.

"God Steven I want to fuck you so badly."

"Pl-Ple-please, please?"

"Good boy," Brendan praises, knowing Ste's begging for his benefit, the boy knows what the sound does to him. "But I'm not gonna fuck you now, I wanna feel you come first."

And Steven gasps loudly as Brendan pushes fingers hard into him, too many, too tight, too much friction. But he jerks his hips, pulling Brendan's fingers knuckle deep. He has always loved this edge of pain pleasure that Brendan is so versed in. He feels those fingers bend inside him and then loses his mind as Brendan brushes expertly against his prostate.

"Fuck yes!" Ste moans, his entire being is only impulse and reaction now. Deprivation making him weak. There is no sex like Brendan's.

Brendan grips his cock tighter, pulling him longer, flicking the head in the way he knows Steven loves. Everything about Steven's body is familiar and Brendan can use every inch to his advantage, knows how the boy will respond to every inch of him. He trails his lips up the inside of Steven's legs, knowing the small bite will make his name fall from the boy's lips. Steven is nothing but molten words in seconds, and Brendan can feel the trail of that climax in every muscle. Works every movement as fast and as hard as he will go, shattering Steven and catching his spunk. He doesn't stop until he feels those powerful aftershocks running through him.

Brendan's so incredibly hard, had forgotten of the power of Steven's climax, how it clogs his veins and beats through him, how he used to be able to release just at that. He changes their positions quickly, fluidly, simultaneously pushing Steven down the wet shower wall and standing so his cock is just in front of those kiss-bitten lips. Steven opens his mouth reactively, but Brendan can see he's still cooling from his own bewildering orgasm and lets his hand do the work, just the head of his cock pressing against that swollen bottom lip.

He touches himself for ages, knowing his body in the way he learned through Steven. He can only accept himself to this extent when Steven's near. He looks into those gorgeous blue eyes and everything feels as it was before.

But still there's something that's not quite the same, and as his mind searches for definitions, he feels fragments of reality pierce his lust. He loses Steven's smile, gains his worry.

Quickly his cock is in that mouth, as Ste deep throats him quickly. The boy is desperate like he's denying a pain he can't even contemplate. That tongue does all those familiar tricks that Ste never knew the power of, but Brendan knows this isn't going to happen tonight. He won't reach oblivion now. He doesn't want the boy to taste rejection, but more than that he doesn't want to taste Steven's dejection. He shouldn't have taken them this far anyway; he knows he is wrecked on the inside. He pulls away.

Brendan's body shakes as he rests against the opposite shower wall, his muscles deflated but cock still achingly hard, climax remaining out of sight.

Ste's eyes fill with emotions – confusion, dejection, and self-shame. Brendan feels confessions balancing on his tongue, is ready to release them into the shower. But he can't watch the boy go through this. He takes himself away, wrapping himself in his big navy dressing gown.

**S&B**

Steven sits for hours in the shower, dressed only in confusion. He sits there till the shower gets cold, can't think through what happened, can only feel his every muscle grow numb. Brendan didn't come, didn't want him enough to climax, the thought tastes like self-blame. He feels Adam's rejection and Brendan's rejection combine until he's screaming inside. Brendan never returns.

As soon as Ste takes a step outside Brendan is calling him back, rushing to his side.

"Steven, wait! Please, I have to know, did I hurt you?"

"Hurt me?!" Instinctively Ste knows Brendan's talking physically, like they're trapped in the nightmares of their past. "What? No."

"You're leaving-"

Ste sighs. He doesn't turn around to the man, stares at the floor, finds strength to admit the shame in his heart.

"Quick, it, I was too quick. I'm sorry, I was weak."

Instinctively Brendan steps closer, so he can breathe him in. He has always hated that Ste could doubt the power of them.

He leans forward breathes in his ear, "you were magnificent. You made me feel magnificent!"

"You didn't-"

"That wasn't anything to do with you, that was everything but you. For a while I haven't been able to…I thought with you it would be different, but I guess it goes deeper than that. You know none of it is your fault."

Brendan hates his weaknesses, loathes that his nightmares have taken everything including the one thing he could always gain power from.

"Why?"

"Because of the man I used to be."

_Because a decade ago everyone who knew me, including the love of my life, had every reason to think I was capable of serious sexual assault. Because I lost count of the number of men I fucked and I can't remember whether every one of them said yes. Because when I walk that line I become like my father and I can't let myself loose it anymore._ He doesn't say that out loud, doesn't want to make Steven observe his history that closely, has a feeling he knows all those things anyway.

"Because of the man I used to be," he repeats defectively, "I can't give that part of me anymore – I haven't been able to for anyone for years."

Brendan hates that the words stain him when their breathed out loud, thinks he's going to see disgust in the eyes of his boy. But as Steven turns around and he looks deep into that cyan he sees only acceptance and lust. Steven walks him back into the hallway wall, a delicious smile pulling his lips.

"And you thought I could change that? That I could help?" In his voice Brendan finds self-pride.

"Oh Steven you know, you'd be the only one."

"Then take me to bed."

"Steven," Brendan exhales, knowing he wants nothing more but that there's no way he can do this when he can't give the boy what he wants.

Steven's fingers work the knot of Brendan's dressing gown. He trails a touch against his abs, explores that chest hair, darker and thicker with their years apart.

It's a light fingertip touch that's sensed like pins and needles, like Steven has the power to bring him alive.

"Trust me," he breathes heavily, looking up at his man from beneath his eyelashes that way he perfected for him at the beginning of everything.

Brendan kisses him like he's his oxygen. Wrapping his arms around the small of his back. Ste jumps into him, wraps his legs around Brendan's waist as he lifts him and they fit like they always used to. They stumble back into the bedroom together. The embrace fades them into the men they were and there's no distance between them

Ste stretches out on the bed and Brendan leans over him, arms and knees bent into the bed either side of him, faces just millimetres apart.

"You know this might not happen," Brendan warns the boy, would do anything to prevent bringing him more pain. "We don't have to do-"

Steven pushes Brendan up, turning them over so he takes the role of pleasurer. He pushes his hardening cock into Brendan's impressive manhood and steals the moan from his lips into his kiss.

"Just shut up and relax," Ste moans against his mouth.

Ste starts to kiss his delicate lips softly, slowly, tending to the wounds. Brendan groans as he nips his fingernails into Ste's skin, and he knows he doesn't want this gently.

To the world Brendan is a dominant, a powerful man who fucks as hard as he fights. Ste has screamed in the face of that pleasure so many times, but he knows different sides to Brendan. He knows the soft slow side he masks as he takes purity for the first time. Brendan's lingering thrilling trails of tongue and cock that cause his companion to question how they never knew they were gay. Ste also knows a secret side, a side created in long loving touches of two hearts committed. He knows the pleasure Brendan gets from being explored. He can remember one time, a long lazy Sunday morning, when he led Brendan to orgasm just through a kiss of every cell. It was still relentless and hungry, Ste had had a dream where Brendan wasn't there anymore and so it was full of possession, but it was deep exploration, and Brendan loved it. He was going to do that tonight.

So Ste uses every inch of his body to pleasure every inch of Brendan's. Opens Brendan's body like a treasure map. He is versed in every inch and finds new sweet spots developed in time, the underside of Brendan's knee, the dip of his ankle, uses lips and tongue and teeth to abuse the power Brendan lets him have. And Brendan's already so close when Ste trails his mouth up against Brendan's inner thigh.

He rolls his balls between his lips, trails his tongue down over Brendan's perineum. Brendan's never let him down this far before, and his eyes reach up to the man's face. Closed eyes, parted lips, wrapped in bliss. Brendan's eyes blink open as he feels Ste's movements pause. Ste gasps at the sheer lust in the older man's eyes, has forgotten how powerful Brendan looks when he's totally giving himself to the moment.

"Bren, I proper want to…can I, please?" Ste asks deeply.

Ste lets his thumbs press into the curve of Brendan's arse, separate the lobes. Brendan feels a long slow keen build up over years, wants more than anything to be known there, sweetly and softly by his Steven.

He doesn't speak, just gives his answer in the rest of his ankles on Steven's shoulders – mirroring their usual position.

Ste bends down close, breathes deeply into that pink puckered hole, and watches those muscles reflex at the unaccustomed touch. He can tell by how responsive the man is that there's still no-one who's done this in love. He places a kiss full of promises against that hole and Brendan's fingers grasp his hair.

"Relax," Ste orders before he runs his tongue over, against, around that hole, ensuring Brendan can barely hold a breath in the power of the wet touch.

As soon as his tongue threads through, tasting Brendan as deep as he can get, Brendan's hands thud against the wall above his head.

"Jesus Christ Steven!" Brendan screams so loud Ste immediately withdraws. "No, no don't stop!"

Brendan's eyes open all blue and wide and begging, and Ste twists a finger into him, stroking around just the very inside.

"You like this?" He asks craving certainty.

Brendan is molten lava under Ste's touch, can do little but nod, but that's all Ste needs, Brendan's expression screaming gratitude and fire and lust.

"Good – enjoy it," Ste hopes, before bending back to kiss Brendan deeper.

Brendan feels like he's being woken, like Ste is introducing him to a world he's never imagined, one that's beautiful and powerful and good. The familiar power of Steven wipes any thought of hurt, or anguish or history from Brendan. It's like Ste is recreating him, and so he gives over all that he is, knowing the boy won't let him hurt.

Ste works his tongue and finger together, motivated by the sound of the man's moans. He moves his free hand to cup the man's cock, can feel he's sensitive, so uses just a breath-like touch, slowly, loosely. Ste puts all his strength into his movements inside Brendan, can't believe the man's letting him know him this deeply, enjoying it this much. Brendan arches back down on Ste and Ste lets his finger bend inside.

"FuckYesSteven!" Brendan yells the string of expletives and Ste can't help but beam that he's hit his prostate first time.

Their movements create a rhythm and Ste knows he can do this for hours if that's what Brendan needs. It isn't.

Ste feels Brendan's toes curl onto his shoulder bones, feels the shake in his legs, hears his moans turn to inderciphable lust, and knows he's close now. He works harder, faster, firmer needing to pull him through this and Brendan screams his name just before he submits to that white light.

Brendan's climax lasts, the deprivation making the orgasm longer, thicker, wetter. Just as Ste can start to feel it cool he pulls away, whispers, "come for me Brendan," in that tone he perfected for Brendan and takes him into his mouth – balls deep in one thrust. He collects the last of Brendan's seed and swallows deeply.

Brendan can feel nothing but Steven everywhere, can't stop himself from diving into the peace, the power, the all-consuming lust of the boy, lets his mind shatter and accepts the darkness at the other end.

Eventually, Steven leans up, smiles as he realises Brendan has passed out from the strength of them. Strokes a hand over his features, feels happiness, relaxation, and an odd sense of gratitude. His heart also beats with love but he doesn't admit that to himself, yet. He curls into Brendan's sleeping body, presses his head to his chest, listens to his slowed heart beat and finds sleep there.

Ste spends the whole night there, wakes up near midday to a cold empty bed.

**A/N 12/5/2013: Thank you so much for reading (and re-reading) guys I really appreciate all your reviews! Just so you know I will be finishing this but it might take a while I'm really sorry to keep you all waiting. To hopefully make up for it in someway I will update you all when I'm near to posting :)**


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